Page 32 of Falling Offsides

My breath comes faster even though I fight it.

“For the coffee,” I snap. “Not the commentary.”

“And the muffin,” he says, holding it out. “Sugar helps your mood.”

I snatch them from his hand like it might erase the flutter in my chest.

“My mood’s fine.”

“Sure,” Auguste says, and I want to hit him. “You’re glowing with serenity.”

“You don’t get to act like you’re sweetness personified,” I say, low and tight. “You don’t get to be cute and calm and helpful when yesterday you were an unprovoked storm in a six-foot-two meat suit.”

His face softens just slightly, lips quivering with the murmur of a laugh. “I’m not pretending yesterday didn’t happen. I was an asshole. I know that.” He opens the car door for me. A silent offer. “But I’m trying not to be one today. That counts for something, right?”

My phone buzzes.

Hallelujah—my perfect out arrives.

I hug the muffin and coffee to my chest like they’re a shield and shake my head.

“You don’t get off that easy, Broussard.”

The Uber pulls up behind his car. The universe doing me a solid.

I don’t say goodbye.

I don’t look at Auguste when I climb in.

But the second the door closes, I feel his stare like a hand at the back of my neck.

Steady. Intense.

Like this is far from over.

And worst of all?

I’m not sure I want it to be.

It’s beena long day of going through photos, editing and getting them to the marketing and PR team. After almost two hours of hiding out in the office, I’m glad to be done for the day. No more purposefully avoiding Auguste Broussard so I don’t have to feign cool, calm, and collected again. I don’t think I could, assaulting one of my father’s players is not the way I want my career to go down the drain.

Thinking of Dad, I send him a text. After I bailed on lunch today, I don’t want him to think I’m ungrateful after he sent me dinner last night. Anyway, it would be nice to catch up over a drink before I go home.

Courtney

You still at the facility?

Dad

Wrapping up now. What’s up?

Courtney

Want to grab dinner?

He doesn’t even pause.

Dad

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